


Cemetery Eyes

by ghulehabsolution



Category: Mayhem (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Music, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Awkward Sexual Situations, Black Metal, Coming of Age, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mayhem, Music, References to Depression, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Social Anxiety, Suicide Attempt, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29442363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghulehabsolution/pseuds/ghulehabsolution
Summary: They've barely made it into January of 1990, but their paths were connected in an instant. Eve is running away from the pain of her life in the states, trying to avoid facing the tragedies she experienced the two years before she moved to Norway. Pelle has become trapped in his mind, his own personal hell. It has increasingly become a chore just to open his eyes. But during a show at an underground bar, they spot each other and their journey of finding themselves, together, begins...***This is a work of fiction set in an alternate universe. Dates and details will likely overlap as this this started out as word vomit, so be warned. I wanted to just write freely and see where it went. I apologize for any screwed up dates/locations. If this isn't your sort of thing, I totally respect that. However, I wanted to create an alternate universe where Pelle/Dead has a chance to receive the love and help so many wished he could have gotten. This may offend some, and again I understand. But for those who may feel the same as I do and wishes for a story with a better ending, this is for me and you.
Relationships: Dead | Per Yngve Ohlin/Original Character
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. Frozen Graves Of The Damned

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction set in an alternate universe. Dates and details will likely overlap as this this started out as word vomit, so be warned. I wanted to just write freely and see where it went. I apologize for any screwed up dates/locations. If this isn't your sort of thing, I totally respect that. However, I wanted to create an alternate universe where Pelle/Dead has a chance to receive the love and help so many wished he could have gotten. This may offend some, and again I understand. But for those who may feel the same as I do and wishes for a story with a better ending, this is for me and you.

Another night, another show. The nightlife in Oslo was hopping as expected for a late Saturday evening. Nothing seemed to stop the young crowd from continuing the party, moving along to new bars and clubs as the next shut down. By 10:20 the band was just mere moments from stepping on stage in a smokey underground bar. Eve chuckled as she looked in the mirror of their cramped dressing room, the interior walls reminding her of the Cavern Club in Liverpool. Though this was far from any venue the Beatles had played in the early days. It was far from what she was even used to playing. 

“Five minutes, Eve.” Nels knocked on the worn white doorframe, his expression calm and collected as a small smile tugged at the corner of his thin lips. 

“They’re going to eat us alive, you know that, right, Nels?” Eve sighed as she looked back. 

“Not if we bite first.” He winked. 

“Well before we all turn into metaphorically cannibals, how do I look?” She turned around and shrugged, her arms raised away from her hips. 

Dressed in a bootleg ‘Evil Dead’ shirt, black leather pin jacket, tight ripped black skinny jeans and well-loved black boots, she looked fucking hot. Her dark brown natural wave hair and tame feathered bangs complimented the frame of her face; and the makeup, well, she was so pale she didn’t even need foundation, but the grey and black eyeshadow complimented the depth of her blue eyes well. The natural mauve pink lipstick was the final perfect touch. 

“Hot as always.” Nels offered as they both snorted. “Now get out there and fuck some shit up just like every show. Make sure they all know that just because you’re a girl, doesn’t mean you aren’t capable.” 

Nels would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t a little nervous too. This place was unlike any other. It was dark, hot, sweaty, but the acoustics were decent and that made up for the uncomfortable nature of the atmosphere. It was usually dubbed a scene for the recently discovered genre which had been called ‘Black Metal’. Not just ‘Black Metal’, but Norwegian Black Metal. The new music was brutal, not just vocally and instrumentally, but also in lyrics and image. It didn’t take long for rumors to begin circulating from Norway to Sweden and beyond, all because of one band called ‘Mayhem’, now fronted by some dude called Dead who supposedly did some crazy shit on stage. Eve didn’t know a lot about the band or this so-called Dead, she just knew this was a frequented joint for the likes of them and that made her nervous. 

She wasn’t a black metal queen or anything, just loved music and wrote what she wanted to play and hear. That’s the way her band had functioned for the last two years with decent word of mouth success and two EPs around Norway. Anytime she or her fellow bandmates were interviewed, the reporter always wanted to know their genre, but no one had an answer. She liked not being defined and boxed in by a label. Though if she had to ever give a pressured answer, she would probably say it was Hard Rock bordering on Metal. Thankfully she was always able to skate past the question and talk about their music and ideas in exchange. 

Nels, Agnetha, Tiem, Andre and Dane walked on stage first; Nels with his guitar, Agnetha with hers, Tiem with his bass, while Andre sat at his drums and Dane stood by the small black and red keyboard. The crowd already began to size them up, many of them dressed all in black, some even dawning corpse paint. However, the band was relieved to see so many familiar faces among them, faces they hoped knew other parts of this rougher crowd who could possibly bridge the gap. Eve had warned this was a bad idea from the moment Nels brought the potential gig to her weeks before, but everyone voted, and it was agreed they’d give it a go in the name of defiance. 

Eve stood just at the end of the dirtied white stoned hallway, the stage path and her band within perfect view while she tried to calm her nerves. This was it; this was possibly the end of her music career as she knew it, and maybe even her life if the crowd was as crazy as others had said. All in the name of defiance and music, right? Eve wasn’t so sure, not this time. Her hands shook and face turned an even lighter shade of pale as Nels kicked off the first song which would play a good ten seconds before she was to waltz onto stage. 

“For fucks sake, Dead, you see this shit?” Euronymous scoffed as he and Dead sat by the bar, still covered in their newly signature corpse paint and blood, at least for Dead, just fresh out of their show across town. Dead’s wounds were still stinging from deeper than expected cuts to his forearms now wrapped in gauze and duct tape. Even with the white paint still haphazardly covering part of his cheeks and forehead, he somehow seemed a shade paler than before he was covered in it. Each night they had a show it had become a running joke to see just how pale Dead could get. So far, it was pretty fuckin’ pale, but tonight wasn’t as bad as the others. Though his hands were shaking pretty bad as he lazily fumbled to grasp a beer bottle while he leaned back against the bar for support. 

Trying to focus on his own shallow breaths, he watched the stage curious, letting a strange new doomy melody carry him away from the people surrounding. He surprisingly didn’t give a fuck at that moment what genre they were supposed to be, it was alright, the guitar anyway. They’d all heard that this band, ‘Mortala’, was fronted by a girl but it was uncertain what exactly the band claimed to be. Euronymous had been going on about it all fucking week, pissed off that Carlen would even have a supposed band like this, fronted by a woman, into their fucking space. There was no business to be had there but black metal business…until now. Dead didn’t really care. Most people in black metal were bullshit, lately, anyway, so what did it matter anymore who was there? 

Pelle was instantly sucked into a curious state as this small-framed woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes just like his, nervously walked in the stage. She looked as if she had been thrown into the belly of the beast and Pelle knew that feeling all too well. He didn’t feel much for other people, but somehow he felt bad for her being so afraid. It was kind of stupid how the women were treated in their scene, pretty much obsolete unless they were hanging around as groupies. He didn’t like it, never had interest in socializing with them or anyone else for that matter. 

But this girl, she seemed peculiar in some way. She was pretty, of course, beautiful, in fact, so Pelle thought. He noticed something though, her eyes not only the same shade, seemed to carry the same emotion of his, though he didn’t really know what that was anymore. He just knew he was at least sad or numb, or something, most of the time…

As the first few lines of their opening song flew from her mouth, Pelle was interested. It wasn’t black metal, not in the least. It wasn’t really anything he had heard before, landing somewhere between hard rock and metal, some sort of vintage hybrid all carried by this small nervous woman. Whoever wrote the words, which he would almost place a bet was her, Pelle thought was talented. 

“They sound like a shitty tribute to Black Sabbath and the Runaways, but at least she looks cute and fuckable compared to most of the girls around here.” Euronymous smirked. 

Dead instantly felt defensive but refused to let his bandmate see his irritation. Instead, entranced by this woman and her words, Pelle stood up, his eyes zeroed in on the stage as the bottle slipped from his hand and shattered by his feet. 

“The fuck, Pelle?!” Euronymous growled, his hands raised in frustration as he watched Dead begin wading through the crowd which had thinned slightly as a few hard asses realized they weren’t some new black metal band on the street. However, surprisingly quite a few usuals stayed, especially those who had steady girlfriends with them, who felt a sense of empowerment seeing Eve doing something they had never seen in this bar. Most of the girlfriends weren’t into rock music at all, so a lot of the guys considered Eve’s band a win in some way to get them a little closer to the scene. Plus, it would be a fucking lie to deny that the band had great potential even if they didn’t belong in their favorite genre. 

“This next one is called _Frozen Graves of the Damned _…” Eve tried to calm her breath as she looked at what felt like a sea of judgmental faces.__

__Make no mistake, she saw some the burliest guys clearly talking about how fucking bad they sucked while they made a scene as they left the floor, cussing and shaking their heads as they disappeared. No one had thrown a bottle at her head yet…so she considered that a win. However, it didn’t take her long to scan the crowd once more and notice this strange face wading through to the front of the stage. It was hard to miss him with his long blonde hair and half worn corpse paint. She wasn’t sure who he was or what his plans were, but he made her nervous. He seemed to be on a mission of some sort, and the closer he got, the more she felt her free hand tremble._ _

__Eve soon noticed that the exposed skin both on his arms was smeared in dried blood and parts that weren’t, were pathetically wrapped in silver duct tape with little caution to infecting whatever was underneath. Between the face paint and the wounds, Eve put together that this very well may have been Dead, the singer from Mayhem._ _

__Realizing who he could be, she knew he was probably doing one of two things; coming to fuck shit up and disrupt the show, or…well, she didn’t have a positive assumption to combat the negative. Those guys were fucking nuts with their music, but she didn’t want any part of it. She wanted to play her music and get the fuck out, never to return._ _

__However, her fears were put to rest as the man reached the barrier of the stage and rested his wounded arms against the worn wood while he looked up at her in silent awe._ _

__“Where the fuck did Dead run off to?” A bandmate of his walked over to Euronymous still at the bar, after arriving later than expected._ _

__“He’s out there right at the fucking front like a damn groupie or something!”_ _

__“Why the fuck…” Their bandmate scowled and grabbed a fresh beer from the bartender._ _

__“It’s Pelle, man, no one ever knows why he does what he does.” Euronymous shrugged. “The chick sings about dying like it’s a fucked holiday…right up his alley, black metal or not.”_ _

__They both nodded knowing it was true. His fascination with death and dying had become heightened since their move to the new house. When he did speak on the rare occasion, if it wasn’t just a few mind numbing words, it was about dying and how others had gone whether that be accidental or not…_ _

__Euronymous didn’t like this though. He didn’t like his singer slack-jawed over some wannabe rocker chick. Sure, her lyrics were pretty fucking good for someone not in their scene, but this didn’t look good on Mayhem; their singer out there like that. No one could tear Dead away if they tried though. Once he was in a trance, it was fuckin over till he was ready to move._ _

__Eve tried not to look at him too much; but it was hard not to just stare right at his face now that his strangely gentle blue eyes were upon her. This was a rare occasion for Pelle. He never looked at another person in the eyes. It made him nervous to think maybe they could see his soul. He didn’t want anyone to know the terrifying secrets that lay behind his eyes. Even he couldn’t handle being there most of the time. But the music felt like a shield for the moment and when she finally did look over, neither one backed down from their shared stare._ _

__His presence felt magnetic though so quiet as he watched her with a curious expression. His head tilted ever so slightly, Dead observed her pale face, feeling something he’d never experienced in his short life. His heart that always seemed lifeless and nonfunctioning, fluttered and burned in his chest as if it had the potential to beat. It felt like seeing someone for the first time; really seeing them. The moment didn’t go unnoticed by Eve’s or Dead’s bandmates as she stood in place, trying to carry on with the song as the two of them stay locked in this intense gaze._ _

__“Aw, looks like little Dead has fallen in love.” Necrobutcher teased as he and Euronymous watched Dead and Eve in this intense exchange._ _

__“Yeah fucking right.” Euronymous rolled his eyes. “The last thing I need is Dead catching feelings and going soft on _me _on the cusp of greatness.”___ _

____“Hey, it might be good for him, Øystein. Pelle has been a little more depressed that usual the last month or so. As if he doesn’t talk about death a lot, it’s almost every fuckin’ day now.”_ _ _ _

____“Yeah, and he needs to stay that way if we want to actually get shit done.”_ _ _ _

____Necrobutcher crossed his arms unimpressed with their friends lack of support for Pelle. It could be nothing, but it could be something and if it was, it could be good for Dead to have something positive in his life since the band wasn’t proving to be at the moment for anyone._ _ _ _

____“I’m telling you now, Øystein, if he likes her and actually wants to hang out with her, you better not fuck with him. He never shows interest in anything but the band…and death. The rest of us have lives of our own outside of it, and maybe this could be a good thing for him creatively, breath some new life…or death, into his lyrics.”_ _ _ _

____“Whatever.” Euronymous rolled his eyes again. “We’ll see where this shit show goes, if it makes it beyond the stage; and if he starts slacking or getting stupid, I’m cutting this off. I need him at his worst, not his best.”_ _ _ _

____Necrobutcher continued to notice lately how Euronymous was saying more _'I' _sentences, rather than _'we' _. Mayhem was still pretty much in infancy, really, and here he was hungry and searching for something even he didn’t understand. It had all gone to his head and they didn’t even have a proper record out._____ _ _ _


	2. Broken Bells Call

Dead still in his trance, milked this moment for all it’s worth. Though he had lost much blood just an hour before and his mind felt foggy with slight delirium, he knew this moment was peculiar and needed desperately for it to happen again. He never really felt like he had a reason enough to continue living, especially the last month or so. Not even the band on the cusp of a record and small tour was enough to satiate the feeling and voices inside his mind. But this woman and her words, he wouldn’t mind the thought of sticking around, at least for one more show before everything went to shit again. 

Eve could feel the exact same burning sensation in her chest as they watched each other. It was confusing, really. She expected this guy to be so brutal, so insane, so terrifying. Sure, he looked that way on the surface, but those damn eyes…those eyes practically hidden among the mess of paint on his face seemed to unknowingly offer a story completely unlike his image.  
Eve’s voice never swayed during this intense exchange, though her hand trembled against the blackness of her jeans. She was unsure if either of them ever blinked for a good five minutes. Her eyes began to burn of dryness and cigarette smoke, so she was thankful when this man in the corpse paint finally cast his view to her shoes as they both blinked incessantly to wet their eyes again. However, this intense feeling in her chest never subsided as the show continued. 

Song after song he just stood there, his eyes fixed to the ground with his body leaned against the stage for support and his mind completely engulfed in every single word she sang. At one point Pelle even bobbed his head to the beat. 

“Can you believe he’s been there since the second song, and hasn’t moved a fuckin’ inch.” Euronymous nodded towards Dead at the front of the stage again in sheer disbelief.

“They aren’t _that _bad, Øystein.” Hellhammer shrugged. “Not black metal by any means, but not fuckin’ bad for a girl leading them.”__

__“Doesn’t look good for our image, Hell.” Euronymous shook his head as he crossed his arms, balancing a beer bottle in one hand and a cigarette in the other._ _

__“It doesn’t do shit for our image, man.” The drummer huffed a laugh. “Hey, maybe he’ll get laid and write some wicked set of songs from it.”_ _

__“Essentially what I said also.” Necrobutcher smirked in salute to his bandmate._ _

__“Like I said, we’ll see what happens and if shit starts fucking up, I’m cutting them off. _’I’ _don’t need him fucking around and catching pathetic feelings for a girl who can’t even play guitar and probably doesn’t even write songs.”___ _

____“I?” Hellhammer furrowed his brows. “I think that would affect _all _of us, man.”___ _ _ _

______“Well I meant all of us, obviously.” Euronymous rolled his eyes again and looked back towards the stage to keep an eye on Pelle._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Fortunate for you, Øystein, it doesn’t look like much will happen since all he’s doing is staring at the ground like a kid. She probably thinks he’s a freak; and, well, he kinda is, so…thank your stars for that, man.” The drummer smirked, though he surprisingly felt bad for their singer. Dead was gravely misunderstood and not exactly versed on how to approach girls…or anyone, for that matter._ _ _ _ _ _

______No sooner the words left the drummers mouth, Nels gave Eve his guitar for the last song and left the stage to mingle with friends that had braved this new venue._ _ _ _ _ _

______“This last song is called _Broken Bells Call _. It’s rather anticlimactic for an ending, but I guess that’s the point, getting you on the cusp of relief and dragging you back into the misery.” Eve shrugged as she squeezed the pick in her hand for a moment, looking at the crowd.___ _ _ _ _ _

________There by the bar were three guys practically staring a hole through her, the only other one in corpse paint practically had it written on his face how badly he had sized her up. He looked like he belonged to Dead’s group, probably the leader. If anyone was going to do some fucked up shit, it looked like it would be him. Eve was just at the finish line though, and she wasn’t letting anyone stop her. Especially someone who seemed to blatantly size her and the entire band up based on what they believed superior music sounded like._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Eve glanced back to who she assumed was Dead and took a deep breath before jumping into the song. It was slow going at first, purposefully, of course._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He was surprised to see her playing and with such a classic sound. Sure the Runaways did it and a few other female bands, but this was different. She didn’t seem like a nostalgic trip, but as if she had recreated a subgenre with her own mark of pain and curiosity. It frustrated Dead when Øystein would go on about Sabbath, Zeppelin and the other trailblazers from their childhood knowing good and well black metal wouldn’t have been possible without them making the first mark. He could only imagine what Øystein was thinking in that very moment about this shy woman with the guitar and provoking lyrics. Pelle didn’t really care though._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Hellhammer and Necrobutcher almost doubled over in laugher at Euronymous’ shocked expression as he attempted to keep his mouth shut when Eve went into her solo. It wasn’t black metal, but there was no denying her talent. Dead didn’t deserve a chance with such a chick, that’s one thing Euronymous knew for sure, and he was going to make sure Eve knew what she could have…if she wanted it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________As the song ended, Eve looked back down at Dead whose gaze remained on the floor while everyone else began to disappear, either leaving or filling a juke box with quarters to keep the party going with true black metal records._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She wondered if he would be there when she came back from the dressing room. If he was, would he even want to speak to her? Was this whole thing a failed attempt to intimidate a woman to keep her from playing? Was Eve just imagining what she saw and felt?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Hey, you good, man?” Nels jogged from the crowd over to Eve as she started her walk through the hall with his guitar in hand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Huh?” She looked up. “Oh, y-yeah, I’m good.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Nels happily handed a fresh beer her way in exchange for his guitar as they walked along._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“What was that whole thing with Dead earlier; I didn’t realize you guys knew each other.” Nels questioned._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“So that _’is’ _Dead…” Eve looked up. “I don’t know him. I’ve never even heard Mayhem before, just heard the stories, that’s all.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Oh…I just thought…wow, that whole stare down was a bit weird then.” Nels furrowed his brows._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I assume he was trying to intimidate me or something; I mean, I get it, we didn’t belong here, but it is what it is. The show is over now, and they won’t have to worry about us coming on their turf anymore. I definitely don’t want to piss his other friend off.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Euronymous?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I don’t know, the other guy in the paint sitting by the bar.” Eve shrugged. “Dude was shooting daggers in my direction. If I could’ve burst into flames, he would have loved to see it.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Nah.” Nels chuckled. “Øystein is a fuck ton of talk, Eve; don’t let that fucker or anyone else make you feel like you can’t do something. There were plenty of people here tonight who became fans, even if they won’t say it.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Eve just shrugged him off and checked her makeup in the mirror._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Fucking great show, Evie!” Agnetha grinned and patted her on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you for taking the last song. You’re getting better with the whole stage fright thing.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Thanks.” Eve waved off her compliment. “It was alright.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________With the band settled for a moment, exchanging opinions about what they had just done, Eve began to feel antsy just sitting there._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Dude, that Dead guy is a fucked unit from what one of my buddies tells me.” Dane shook his head. “Supposedly keeps dead shit in his room for aroma sake and cuts himself up all the time.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Yeah, and looks like he’s also got a thing for, Evie, over here.” Tiem snorted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“All in the name of reputation.” Eve shrugged. “It’s image, Dane, you know that; start a rumor then it spreads and soon you’re notorious. Half the shit people say is never true.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“If that’s how you feel, go talk to him.” Dane shrugged. “Get the real story and see.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“…Maybe…maybe I will.” She stood up feeling a surge of defense run over her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Eve was always the quiet one in the group. Originally she had wanted to play guitar and have someone else sing her lyrics, but after auditioning a few women, she found quickly if the job was gonna be done right, it had to be done by her. She didn’t like it, but she also didn’t like the idea of having her words and ideas butchered by a poser either._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Taking a long sip of her beer, Eve glanced at her amused bandmates and turned towards the door._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Good luck!” Agnetha called out. “Just be yourself!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Eve cringed at her motherly tone as she walked down the hall. The last thing she needed was encouragement to make an ass of herself in front of a band that had become notorious in so many sorts._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Just calm the fuck down.” Eve quietly mumbled to herself as she reached the end of the hall._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Surprisingly, Dead was still there, of course now sitting on the stage holding a fresh beer. He watched his dangling feet for a moment going back and forth in his mind on whether or not he should stick around. It was stupid, really. He didn’t have much to say about anything, especially to a girl. He highly doubted she would want to hear about what he had just done at his show, or about the blood he planned to shed at the next, or in between. But she seemed nice, and for some reason Pelle gravitated towards her vibration._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“He’s actually fuckin’ waiting for her.” Hellhammer looked across the room. “This is a new one on me. Figured he would’ve run off by now.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Euronymous huffed as he swiveled his seat around to face the bar. The whole night was shit aside from the show they had performed themselves and now Dead was acting like a lost puppy. Øystein didn’t need this shit._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Eve’s heart fluttered with anxiety as she spotted Dead sitting all alone, quietly gazing at the dirty floor. His bandmates all sat by the bar talking amongst themselves, occasionally looking towards him and the rest of the place people were either headbanging or drinking. Eve could barely bring herself to walk towards him, unsure of how he would react, but somehow she soon stood to the side of him. So far into his head, he hadn’t realized she was so close until she spoke._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Um, hi…I saw you during the show and I thought I would come say hi…which I already did.” Eve whispered that last part, quietly damming herself as a tint of blush graced her cheeks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He wasn’t making this easy on her, never once looking up as if he had entered a different world. A few seconds went by before he even considered speaking._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I like your lyrics.” He spoke quietly, a slight Swedish accent following. To look so vicious, his voice sounded gentle and sweet._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Thank you, that’s very nice of you to say.” Eve bit her lip nervously. “You’re Dead, right, from Mayhem; I…I’m Eve.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She held her hand out and it trembled slightly. Pelle observed her pale skin for a moment, the shade almost likened to his own, though her palms were slightly pink, probably from playing. He couldn’t remember the last time he thought about touching another person’s hand. Touch was a foreign concept to Pelle. However, he took this moment to consider it a test. His hands were covered in his own crusty blood and Pelle was curious if she would freak out and run away at the sight of it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Of course she noticed the caked blood on his hand, but Eve wasn’t going to let that scare her away. It was fascinating to an extent, really. The whole notion made her curious about these sensational live shows distant friends had gone on about. Now seeing Dead firsthand, realizing at least _’that’ _rumor was true, were the others as well?___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Pelle held out the hand of his arm least wounded and was met with surprise as Eve gripped his hand, gently shaking it as some of the stickiness transferred to her palm. Sparks tingling in his fingertips felt so strange, so lively. Pelle wasn’t sure he liked this feeling of liveliness, or more so, he didn’t understand it. Her hand was soft though, and warm._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“My friends, call me Pelle.” He took a small breath, his eyes still on her hand now covered in his blood. He waited for her hasty exit, but with each second passed, he was a second closer to realizing it didn’t bother her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Well, Pelle, can I sit beside you?” Eve looked his face over._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Yes.” Was all he said. Pelle wasn’t usually one for many words, especially in a social setting and this time proved to be no different._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________They both sat there for a couple of songs in complete silence, occasionally sipping their beers as some of her friends mingled with his. The other guy, Euronymous kept quite an eye on she and Dead. Every time Eve looked up his eyes were on her. This didn’t make her heart flutter with curiosity, not the way Dead’s stare did. Euronymous made Eve uneasy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“This is a good Bathory track,” Eve nodded. “Though I prefer Necromancy over it.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“At least this album is good…” Dead looked over at her bloodied hand holding a half drank beer. “So…you like black metal?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I like all music.” She offered a small smile. “I like things that provoke people.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Me too, well, things that provoke.” Pelle agreed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Before Pelle could say anything else, Euronymous and the rest of his band walked over._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Going to introduce us to your friend, Pelle?” He looked over at the singer as he crossed his arms confidently._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Eve, this is the band.” Dead offered a weak gesture, though his gaze turned to the floor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Eve, hm, that’s very…Christian.” Euronymous smirked and nodded towards the small silver inverted cross hanging around her neck. “Which, I assume you are not.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Haven’t been for a long time.” Eve shrugged._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Well, I’m Euronymous, founding member and guitarist of Mayhem.” He held out his hand. Feeling a spark of whit, Eve shook his hand with her bloodied one. “Ah, I see you and Dead have become acquainted…” The guitarist twisted his lips as he looked down at his hand before wiping it on the hip of his black jeans._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Hellhammer and Necrobutcher laughed to themselves. It served Euronymous right for being such a dick about this whole thing when literally nothing had happened thus far, just a few innocent words exchanged._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“So, obviously you’re not into black metal, but—”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I’m not well acquainted, but I like all music, Euronymous.” Eve corrected him. “We were just talking about the previous Bathory track and my preference for Necromancy over it.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________To say Euronymous was surprised would be an understatement. Most of the girls hanging around the scene were never this pretty or actually into the music, just the guys. Of course, early Bathory was classic, anyone could know them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Ah, so you’re one of those girls...” He nodded._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“What girls?” Even furrowed her brows._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Bathory is trendy now, not that difficult to get into. Anyone could’ve heard Necromancy in passing…if you were truly into black metal—”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I see where you’re going with this and I’m not buying what you’re selling.” Eve stood up. “I could give a fuck less what genre or subgenre something falls under and I don’t have to prove my love for something just to satiate some edge lord bullshit persona you’ve got. Music is music, don’t pigeonhole it for image sake.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Necro, Hellhammer and even Dead quietly snickered at the ‘edge lord’ comment. People rarely ever stood up to Euronymous, especially a woman. On the flipside of it, Eve never said a fucking word to people, usually. She often caught a lot of flak for being a woman in the music scene though, and much to Eve’s surprise, she finally met her breaking point with some stranger in corpse paint._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Euronymous smirked as he looked her face over for a moment, his lips soon turning upwards into a smile._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Real name’s Øystein.” He held out his hand again. “That’s Jørn and that’s Jan.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________It’s as if Eve passed some unknown test for putting Euronymous in his place, a thing no one dared to do. She didn’t realize his plan though, no one did. And you could’ve heard a pin drop in that moment, even over the muffled black metal, as they shook hands again. It was bizarre and unexpected to see Øystein introduce himself and his band as they really were. Necro and Hell just looked at the two of them as he and Eve stared each other down._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Dead instantly felt a strange sense of defeat, while Eve felt as if she were staring down a beast. All she wished for after being interrogated was peace, quiet, and conversation with someone (Dead), who had a gentle voice._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Eve! Tiem and Dane are gonna tear down, so if you want me to drop you at your place, better get a move on.” Nels called out from the far end of the stage as he locked his guitar case._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Eve quickly pulled her hand away, taking the distraction as an excuse for escape from Øystein._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Well that’s my cue.” Eve smiled sheepishly. “It was good to meet you guys.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Yeah, you too.” Necro offered a small smile having not said two words._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Thanks for the chat,” Eve turned back to look at Dead and gently touched his shoulder to gain his attention, though his gaze barely made it to her face. “Take care of yourself, alright?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________To everyone’s surprise, Dead offered the slightest smile and nod before watching her walk away with Nels. Of course Pelle smiled sometimes, very rarely, but never at a girl, never a stranger they just met like this. Most of the time he reserved himself to a corner while everyone else socialized. And sure, he didn’t speak much to Eve, but he readily existed in her space, and that was really something. Something that Euronymous didn’t like._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	3. Chapter 3

“So what was all that about?” Nels asked as he pulled out of the parking lot. 

“What was what about?” Eve shrugged. 

“Dead, Euronymous…Mayhem?” 

“Nothing, I guess.” She offered a nonchalant smile. “Dead, excuse me, Pelle, and I exchanged a few words, and he complimented my music. Then Euronymous and the rest of them walked over…dude gives me bad vibes.” 

“Pelle, hm?” Nels teased. “Ah, you’re just out of your element, Evie.” 

“I’m telling you, Nels, something isn’t right about this Euronymous guy.” She shook her head. 

“But a guy covered in his own blood is alright?” Nels chuckled. 

“Pretty much…” 

“Well at least you get along with one of ‘em. We’ve been invited to a party at their place set for next Friday.” 

Eve’s heart fluttered and flopped at the idea of seeing Pelle again, maybe that time just as himself. It was stupid, really. They barely shared a paragraphs worth of conversation and she had to coax that much out of him. But there was something about his demeanor, his expression, just something about Pelle. 

“It’s not really my scene though, the whole party thing…” Eve sighed at the realization. 

“Maybe not; but getting in with Mayhem could be good for us, for our image, Eve.” Nels glanced over at her. 

“Image.” Eve snorted and shook her head. “What image, Nels; we aren’t black metal, not even close.” 

“No, but it couldn’t hurt our credibility, at least them knowing us. A lot of people liked us tonight, Evie; their girlfriends felt impowered by you and that meant something to the guys, seeing their girls into something besides Cyndi Lauper or Madonna. You’ve got a way; you just don’t like to admit it.” 

Eve hated compliments most of the time, especially ones like those. She knew what they were doing was special, but what she was doing with her own life was mediocre at best. The Runaways had done it all before her along with a few others. Eve wasn’t special or different, she just happened to be an American girl living in a small country that had very few female musicians. It was sheer circumstance and luck that they had made it as far as they had. She wasn’t going to say that to Nels though, not tonight. Not when her mind was elsewhere, plunged deep into the false depths of another comfortable blue-eyed stare all in her mind. 

It was never a solid decision if Eve would attend this so called party when Nels dropped her off. The thought was sort of left on pause for some time that week. Nels would eventually convince her, he was sure. Until then, Eve wandered up to her apartment, lugging a guitar case along with her. 

She had never felt so comfortable being alone as she did when she shut the door behind her, complete silence following. A deep breath expelled from her lips, one that felt like it had been held for hours. 

The ever present grin couldn’t be wiped from her face as Eve walked into her kitchen and poured a glass of water. 

“Pelle…” She whispered before taking a small sip. “Pel-le…Peeelllleeee.” 

Eve cringed as she walked into the living room in search of some vinyl to cap her night. The way she sounded out every single letter of his name, or at least what his friends called him, made her shudder at how silly she sounded. She liked his name though, it sounded pretty, especially being said by Pelle himself. Why though? Why did it sound pretty? Why did it even matter to Eve? She knew why. 

Those blue eyes haunted her thoughts as she slipped Ozzy’s ‘Blizzard of Ozz’ on her turntable, quickly dropping the needle on track three. 

Thirty minutes out of town, Pelle was just walking into the bands newly rented house after a group trip to the ER for some fresh bandages. Having gone to Eve’s show, the wounds were too far gone for proper stitches, so a good cleaning and new gauze wraps did the trick before sending him home with some antibacterial cream that he would never use. 

“Fuckin’ wild tonight, man! You did great!” Øystein grinned and patted Pelle on the shoulder before taking a much needed seat on one of the couches in the living room after grabbing a cold beer from the fridge. 

“Thanks.” Was all Pelle managed as he walked towards the stairs. 

“Hey man, aren’t you going to tell us about her?” Necrobutcher called out, stopping Pelle in his tracks. What was there to tell though? He was sure Øystein wouldn’t have anything good to say about it. 

“About who?” Pelle asked. 

“The singer tonight, Eve, wasn’t it?” Necro smiled encouragingly. 

Out of everyone in the band, Necro wanted to see Dead happy and cared to listen anytime he had something to say. Øystein used to in the years before, but something had seemed to change the last little bit. With a push to become better, more unique, Øystein began to lose sight of what they had set out to do in the beginning and it showed. 

“Nothing to tell.” Pelle shrugged quietly. “I’m tired.” 

With that, he disappeared to avoid more conversation about this woman who he couldn’t rid from his mind. 

“He likes her.” Necro grinned and shook his head as he took a seat across from Øystein. 

“I’ll fix that.” Øystein grumbled. 

“What the fuck, man; let him be happy for once.” Necro shot back as Hellhammer walked in from the kitchen. 

“Happy Pelle means a failing band, and we can’t afford it. We’re already in a rut, man.” Øystein shrugged. “Besides, she’s outta his league.” 

“And she’s in yours?” Hell snorted. 

“You’ll see...” Øystein sat back with a smug look on his cheeks as if he could tell the future. 

Necro hated this new side of Øystein, this increasingly greed fueled personality. Pelle deserved a chance for something of his own and if Necro had anything to say about it, he would have it at any cost. Without Pelle the band would be nothing, and Øystein needed to start appreciating that again; his presence, and what he brought to the band. 

While Øystein stewed over his plans and his bandmates drank their beers, Pelle stepped in the shower upstairs. It was instant relief, the scalding hot water rushing over his aching body. The sting of his fresh wounds reminded him that at least on some level he still walked among the living for the moment. 

“Eve.” He mumbled. “Eeevvveee…Eve.” Pelle caught himself with a slight weary smile while sounding out her name though short, still sweet. 

The same beautiful shade of blue he had seen in her eyes, now stared back at him as he carefully dried his body and looked into the mirror with a fresh face. Pelle was handsome underneath the paint, a strong face with beautiful features. He didn’t see it though, in fact, he really just saw nothing and had never considered his ‘looks’. Eve, though, she was truly beautiful. Before her, the only thing Pelle ever consider beautiful was death. 

Dragging his feet, Pelle walked to his bedroom, a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. He felt sluggish from the blood loss and jumping around on stage like a madman. It had finally all caught up to him. With the door closed quietly behind him, he relished in the darkness and promptly flopped down on his mattress after flinging the damp towel on a chair. It was difficult at first to get comfortable with fresh bandages on his skin, but soon he drifted off into the dark abyss, his mind quieting for the first time all week. It felt good to feel nothing with all the stress and isolation from moving to a place out of town. The place came at a decent price, but was it really worth it?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update! I just want to stress again that this is absolutely a work of FICTION. This is not a true story or anything of the like. So please, keep that in mind. Thanks!

“Hello?” 

“Evie! Get your ass up and out of bed if you aren’t already.” 

“Wh-what’s going on?” Eve yawned and rubbed her eyes as she scooted back against the headboard of her bed. 

“Øystein called me last night and invited us to come to their practice today before the party and we’re going.” 

Eve’s heart instantly fluttered and burned at the thought of seeing Pelle again. It had been just a week since she had briefly met him, but he never once left her mind or her dreams. 

“Who exactly is us, Nels?” 

“Well the whole band, but mainly you and I.” 

“Alright, who else is going out of all of us?” Eve rolled her eyes and reached for the half empty glass of water by the bed. 

“Just me, you and Agnetha. Everyone else will arrive this evening.” 

A lengthy pause followed his words as Eve fought with her mind, wishing nothing more than to bail too. These guys were far beyond her and although she would love to see them in action, especially Pelle, so up close and personal, it was a fucking bad idea. She didn’t fit into the black metal scene, no matter how many Bathory or Sodom songs she listened to, Eve didn’t belong. 

“I don’t know, Nels…” 

“C’mon, Evie; I know you’re not exactly keen on these guys, but they’re interested in you…in us. Euronymous mentioned that he’s starting a label soon and may want to consider us as one of the beginning artists for the brand.” 

“We aren’t defined by a genre though, Nels…and especially not in the way he seems to view music. I don’t see how it could be a good fit.” 

Nels paused with a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes as he looked at the clock in his small apartment. 

“Eve, please, just…let’s go hang out for a while and see what happens. If anything, we’ve made some new friends.” 

“Friends?” Eve twisted her lips at the thought of calling Euronymous a friend; Pelle, however…

“Eve you are usually the most inclusive person I know; but right now you’re being just as stereotypical as the people you loathe in the music scene. What’s going on then, did Dead freak you out so badly you’d rather not see him again?” 

“No, of course not.” She answered too quickly. “I just,” Eve sighed. “I guess I’m nervous…I don’t do parties or mingle, it’s not my thing and especially not with black metal guys. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.” 

“Tell you what, you feel uneasy and want to leave, even as soon as we get there, I’ll take you home no questions asked.” Nels offered, a begging tone laced in his words. 

Eve couldn’t say no, not when Dead would be there. Afterall, the party was for his birthday, the big 21. Not that it really mattered if she was there. He probably didn’t think another thing about her after the show, probably wouldn’t remember her name if he tried. It wasn’t a big deal. 

“Fine…” Eve groaned as she pushed the covers back and scooted to the side of the bed. “Give me half an hour and I’ll be ready, alright?” 

“Perfect, see you then, Evie!” Nels spoke gleefully before hanging up. 

“This is going to go abso-fuckin’-lutely terrible.” She grumbled and pulled herself out of bed. 

Eve had the habit of calling something either good or bad before it happened. Most of the time she was wrong, but it didn’t stop her, especially if it was something unfamiliar and unplanned. It was unfair, really, to call something like this. It was unfair to pass such a judgement when it was Euronymous inviting them, not her band asking. Obviously Mayhem had to think at least a little something about them to extend the invitation for a practice, right? 

Pushing the thoughts aside, Eve rummaged through her closet and pulled out a fresh white shirt reading GOING TO HELL IN A HAND BASKET in plain black block font, an idea she and Agnetha had some up with for a business they were planning to start soon. Eve couldn’t help but to giggle at the quote while slipping the shirt over her shoulders. It was just one of many already printed and pressed, waiting for the perfect place to distribute. 

Eve finished her wardrobe for the day with some ripped denim skinny jeans, and black boots before starting on her hair which was naturally wavy from receiving a wash the night before. 

“You know what, fuck it.” She rolled her eyes as she ran her fingers through, combing the bangs over to one side before starting on a more natural makeup for the day. The chosen browns and mauve pink really brought the blue out in her eyes, something she absentmindedly hoped a certain someone with blue eyes would notice too. 

Just as Eve applied a quick coat of tinted Chapstick, Nels was downstairs honking like crazy. 

“I’m fuckin' coming.” She grumbled quietly before slipping a denim jacket on, then her leather overtop. It was January in Norway, everyone needed the added layers. One last look over and a spritz of perfume, Eve was out the door with her crossbody bag barely hanging on as she rummaged through to find her glasses. 

“Fucks sake, Nels!” Eve grumbled as she reached his car, the wind practically cutting her in two. “I said thirty minutes and meant it!” 

“I gave you forty-five.” Nels smirked while Eve slipped in the passenger seat and shoved her silver framed glasses on the bridge of her nose. 

“Yeah, well…where’s Agnetha?” Eve looked towards the back of the car. “I assumed she’d be coming with you.” 

“Nah, had some last minute things to do, but she’ll be there later.” 

Nels could sense Eve’s nervousness and tried to switch the subject to an upcoming show they had the next weekend after, which would lay the groundwork for what they would hope could be a small tour around Norway and Sweden, with the idea of getting word to other countries such as Germany, Paris and Italy. 

The thirty minutes to their house in the woods seemed to go by quicker than expected as they soon arrived up the snow covered drive. The exterior of the two story house, which was larger than Eve expected, was red with white trim. She was honestly surprised to see that a bunch of dudes could pick a place like this, though she wasn’t as convinced having not seen the inside yet. That would be the true test, not that it mattered. 

Her heart practically flopped around in her chest like a gymnast as she looked the place over from the passenger seat. 

“You good, Evie?” Nels touched her arm, jolting her back to reality. 

“Uh…yeah, sure, of course.” She offered a nervous smile. “Let’s go in, I guess.” 

Nels smiled and patted her shoulder before shutting the car off. Eve had to practically force herself to move and open the car door. Between the freezing weather and her nerves, she’d never felt so out of place and afraid. So much could go so wrong…but so much could go so right. 

Meanwhile, just inside…

“Dude you better fuckin’ get up, someone is coming.” Necro beat on Pelle’s door for the millionth time. “Trust me, you don’t wanna fuck this up, man.” 

Mid-swing the door was pulled open with force, Pelle behind it completely dressed and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“I didn’t sleep well last night, what is so important that I am around, Jørn?” Pelle mumbled into a yawn. 

“Practice and a surprise, my dear friend, just trust me, alright.” Jørn patted his shoulder with a soft smile. “Doesn’t smell like it, but if ya have anything recently departed hanging around in your room, best throw it out now and open the windows for good measure.” 

With his eyes turned toward the ceiling, he thought for a moment trying to remember any ‘surprises’ that might be lurking in the depths of his newly spotless room which he had been cleaning all week for this stupid party. No one would be in his room, he explained, but that didn’t stop Jørn from badgering until he whipped the place into shape. Pelle even washed the sheets, just to shut his friend up. 

“No surprises, I promise; but I told you, no one will be in here anyway.” 

“Ah, sweet little Pelle, you never know. It will be a party, after all.” 

Pelle playfully grumbled as a smile tugged at his lips. The guys always teased him, calling him 'sweet little Pelle', or just 'sweet Pelle'. He didn’t really care, but he was Dead after all, front man of Mayhem, the most brutal band in the world. Pelle had an image to protect after all! However, he was just as soft as his smile most of the time and the pet name fit him well. ____“Now, get ready, come have some breakfast and join us for a practice. Øystein’s mom sent smultringer by him last night for everyone.” Jørn chuckled and shook his head._ _ _ _

____“I’ll be down in a minute.” Pelle agreed and watched Jørn walk away._ _ _ _

____Needing an extra wake-me-up, Pelle decided a shower was in order to jolt his mostly lifeless body back into existence. It was a good attempt, but as soon as he got back to his room and dressed in a fresh band shirt and jeans, he sat down on his bed for just a minute…and promptly fell into a deep sleep._ _ _ _


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who have been reading and leaving kudos! It's much appreciated. Now having multiple chapters finished, I'm hoping to post a bit more frequently than before.

“Knock, knock.” Nels knocked on the wooden screen door as Eve shivered behind him. 

Øystein eagerly ran to the door having just finished the dishes, something abnormal, but with company as _special _as Eve, it was necessary.__

__“Friends! Welcome! You made it just in time!” He smiled happily and ushered them in. “Find the place OK?”_ _

__“Ah, yeah, not difficult at all.” Nels smiled as Eve looked around the kitchen, following quietly behind._ _

__The walls were a pale yellow and the cabinets a dark stained wood. It was surprising to see a clean kitchen with four young men living there, but all that sat on the countertop were the usual necessary kitchen appliances: coffee maker, toaster, bread box. It wasn’t fancy, but it was surprisingly charming._ _

__“Would you like a cup of coffee, Eve?” Necrobutcher smiled as he grabbed a few more cups from the cupboard._ _

__“That would be really nice, thank you.” Eve managed a smile as the heavy scent of coffee hit her nose reminding her she hadn’t even had the first cup for the day._ _

__“Come get settled by the fire for a minute and warm up. Jørn will bring the coffee in.” Øystein smiled and pointed his arm in the direction of the living room._ _

__Again, it was nothing special, wood walls throughout, a fireplace roaring on the furthest wall, while three couches surrounded a coffee table covered in zines, ashtrays and records. A large oak shelf sat against the left wall filled with vinyl, a few peddles in the middle section and some mics, while a turntable sat off just beside it. Eve noted the cleanliness, not a single piece of clothing or garbage on the floor. For a bunch of boys who supposedly fucked shit up on stage, they were oddly clean. How black metal were they really? Eve almost laughed at her own question._ _

__“We’re really glad you decided to join us for practice.” Øystein spoke as he sat down on the couch opposite of Eve and Nels, as Jørn walked a cup of coffee over to Eve._ _

__“Cream or sugar?”_ _

__“No, just black, thank you.” Eve gave a gracious smile to Jørn as she accepted._ _

__“Yeah, thanks for asking us out. We were talking this week about how we planned to go to your next show, see what it’s all about…right, Eve?”_ _

__Nels gently nudged her from deep thought as she looked up from her cup._ _

__“Huh?”_ _

__“I was just telling Øystein we were talking about going to the next show…”_ _

__“Oh, yeah, right.” Eve nodded. “The next show for sure.”_ _

__“You just let me know and I will make sure you get the best treatment.” Øystein offered. “And we plan to attend your next as well, as long as it doesn’t interfere with anything.”_ _

__“But why?” Eve furrowed her brows, the blush instantly creeping up her neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to seem rude, it’s just—”_ _

__“No, no, I deserved that.” Øystein laughed. “I was rude when Pelle introduced us. We enjoy your music just as we enjoy all different types. Afterall, without the likes of Black Sabbath and others, we wouldn’t have eventually advanced to a new genre, would we?”_ _

__Eve watched him a moment, as a sense of unease washed over her not entirely sure if she believed his words. With how crazy the scene seemed, maybe they had lured her and Nels there to sacrifice them in some weird ritual. Now, now, calm down there, Eve. Maybe Øystein was just being nice. Maybe he was actually capable._ _

__“I suppose, yeah.” Eve agreed and the bridge of her glasses up after they had slipped slightly._ _

__It was cute, every move she seemed to absentmindedly make. Øystein couldn’t believe she actually decided to take him up on his offer. Of course, it is unlikely she would have considered, had Nels and the rest of her band not been invited._ _

__Things were going just as planned for Øystein. Pelle hadn’t come down for breakfast and was now in a deep sleep giving him a chance to know her before his friend could even wake. The whole plan was shitty, though Øystein did find Eve attractive and somewhat talented. It wasn’t often a woman fronted a band and did it so well at that…for what it was, anyway. Regardless, he wanted a piece of that; a chance to swoop her up and keep her for himself, while Pelle continued his pathetic depression bit to make music for their first full length album. This album would be the big thing to put them on the map, so Øystein believed. Nothing had been going right since they moved, and this was what they needed._ _

__“Where are you off to, Necro?” Øystein looked over as Jørn walked towards the stairs._ _

__“Checking on Pelle.”_ _

__“Let him sleep, obviously he isn’t much interested in practice right now.”_ _

__The first mention of Pelle had Eve’s heart fluttering around in her chest like a swarm of butterflies. It was so stupid, really. But she secretly hoped Jørn would continue his way up the stairs. However, with a look of disappointment, Jørn changed direction and walked past the living room to another door._ _

__“Would you like to see the temporary practice space?” Øystein stood up._ _

__“Uh, sure, that would be cool.” Eve and Nels followed after him, though Eve’s mind was wandering up the stairs to find this bewitching young man who practically haunted her dreams._ _

__The practice space was small, but not too bad. A medium sized window rested just against the furthest wall behind Hellhammer’s drum set, while every other bit of wall space was lined in eggcrate material to keep the sound in. Jørn was now standing to the left, tuning his bass, while Øystein’s guitar rested on a stand to the right. Lastly, a couch sat against the wall by the door, with a coffee table out from it._ _

__“Eve, Nels.” Hell nodded casually from behind his drums. “Was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”_ _

__“Ah, had to get this one out of bed first.” Nels teased._ _

__“Yeah, I suppose Pelle hasn’t come down yet either…”_ _

__“Nah, fucker is still sleeping.” Øystein smirked and shook his head. “Another late night, of course…I swear he’s hiding a girl up there or something.”_ _

__Ouch, that one hurt. Eve could feel her heart skip a beat at the thought, as stupid as it was. Of course, Pelle would have a girl, tons of them, probably. Jørn could see the uncertain look on Eve’s face as she shifted her weight nervously. He knew there was something strange between Pelle and Eve. Maybe it was momentary, but still, it had existed at some point. And here his bandmate was being an ass when Pelle wasn’t around to defend himself. It was all a ploy to get something he thought Pelle already had._ _

__“Cut it out, Euro, the guy isn’t even here to defend himself.” Jørn smirked playfully, hoping to fix the look on Eve’s face._ _

__“Yeah, yeah, Necro; how about we do a little warm up while we wait on Dead to join the living?”_ _

__Even his puns were bad. The unease grew in Eve’s chest, but that didn’t matter to her at that point. All this talk about him, she wanted to see Dead, Pelle, whatever they wanted to call him, at least once before bouncing out like a scared pup. She needed to know if she was crazy, and maybe if he was too._ _

__While Pelle continued to sleep soundly, the guys tuned up and began playing an instrumental run through that Eve obviously didn’t recognize. It was raw, intense and something none of the other bands had managed to captured as of yet. She wasn’t well versed, but she was smart enough to recognize history in the making. Still unimpressed by Øystein, Eve watched Jørn and Jan, hopeful that Pelle would soon wake and join them. How could he not hear this impressive noise, especially with that half assed soundproofing?_ _

__“What do you say, care to join us for one, Eve?” Øystein asked with a sickeningly sweet tone. “I picked up your EP’s earlier this week and the three of us gave them a good listen, so we could play along if you’re worried about it.”_ _

__“Oh, I don’t know.” Eve shook her head. “I’m sure Pelle will be down soon and I don’t want to take away from your practice.”_ _

__“Nonsense, you will only add to it.” He insisted. “Dead liked your show, I’m sure he will be happy to see it again.”_ _

__Eve almost looked to Jørn for approval, though neither knew the other well. Uneasy, but feeling as if his hands were tied, Jørn nodded softly as Nels nudged Eve to stand._ _

__“O-Ok….” Eve took a deep breath and sat the half full cup on the table as she bit her lip. “One song won’t hurt, I guess. What did you have in mind?”_ _

__“How about ‘Ways of the Weak’?” Euronymous suggested. Could he have chosen anything else? Why did it have to be that one? It was the hardest track she had created, both in difficulty and sound, especially after a recent rework._ _

__“It’s changed a bit since we recorded it and it has three guitars, so—”_ _

__“Well I left mine in the backseat from yesterday’s practice and we can always forgo the second rhythm and let Jørn keep time. We’ve got you.” Nels grinned and practically ran out the door before Eve could protest the idea. This version was something they had kept under their hats since reworking it months before. It’s not as if she wanted to share it with other people, especially this band…_ _

__“So what’s changed about it?” Jørn glanced at Eve who was standing in front of the mic between he and Øystein._ _

__“Just the vocals, something a little different is all.” She shrugged. “We’ve only rehearsed it, never played it live, so it could be shit.”_ _

__“Nah, I doubt that.” Jørn offered a small smile._ _

__Eve’s hands trembled as she looked down at the mic which Pelle must’ve used a million times before. He seemed to cross her mind every few seconds, wishing for him to stir from what seemed to be his best slumber._ _

__“Alright, let’s do this.” Nels grinned upon his return with a black hard case._ _

__Eve kept quiet as Nels tuned and plugged his Les Paul in. Øystein kept a curious eye on Eve with his plan seemingly going off without a hitch._ _

__“We ready?” Øystein smiled in her direction._ _

__“Oh, should we close the door to not wake Dead?” Nels nodded._ _

__“It’s a little stuffy in here, best to leave it open.” Jørn shook his head before Øystein could protest. “It is.” Eve agreed quietly before slipping her jackets off to sling on the couch._ _

__Øystein knew there was potential to wake Pelle, but he felt safe enough in the current situation, being so near her first. He believed it was clear that she had obviously taken interest after agreeing to jam with them. Let him fuckin’ wake. Yeah, in fact Øystein hoped he would come see what the commotion was._ _

__The song kicked off perfectly and Eve grabbed the mic on instinct as she closed her eyes, listening to the heavier than usual distortion. The first line in, she slipped further and further into that headspace away from the world. However, it was the first line growled, that time seemed to stop._ _

__Euronymous, Necrobutcher and Hellhammer all three almost stopped in their tracks at this shocking new sound from this small woman. Her voice was brutal all things considering. No one saw this coming from someone they had sized up to play nothing heavier than the lightest Dio track. The sound was profound enough to wake the dead, and it did. No sooner than the first growl escape her perfectly mauve shaded lips, did Dead’s beautiful eyes flutter open._ _


	6. Chapter 6

“What the fuck?” He sat up groggily for a moment before stumbling to his feet. “Who the fuck?” 

Was that a woman? If so, who? How was she…Wha… Pelle’s mind couldn’t wrap around this strange new sound as he hurried curiously down the stairs following the sound to the cracked door of the makeshift practice space. 

Eve…it couldn’t be, could it?! Pelle was going to find out. His hand trembled as he gently pushed the door open. There she stood, her eyes screwed shut, head bobbing as she gripped the mic with intensity. It was unlike anything he had heard from a woman, the vocals so clean and clear, it suited her. Pelle felt a flutter in his chest, that strange nagging sign of life he had yet to accept, as the song ended, and Eve opened her eyes for the first time. 

“Holy fucking shit!” Øystein was the first to speak as she and Pelle stood locked in a gaze just as they had at her show. 

It’s as if in their stare the rest of the world fell away, and they existed together in darkness…until Øystein injected himself in the moment yet again. 

“Were you ever going to tell anyone a sound like that can come from you?” Øystein asked. “I mean, why haven’t you recorded it like that?” 

“I just figured no one would want to hear it.” Eve huffed a small laugh. “It’s not true Norwegian Black Metal and it really doesn’t belong anywhere genre wise with clean vocals, so…” 

“I mean, it’s not Norwegian Black Metal, but’s fuckin something!” Øystein insisted. “It’s fucking good, Eve. Seriously, I’m sorry I underestimated you.” 

Was Øystein actually being genuine? Yes, yes he was. Pelle aside, he was truly impressed. If anything, this made him want her even more. She could be good for their image, maybe even open for Mayhem with vocals like that. Of course, as a soft opener…she wasn’t Norwegian Black Metal in the least. 

“Thanks, I appreciate that.” Eve nodded quietly wishing to look to Pelle again as he sat on the couch, his eyes now on the coffee table absorbing every word exchanged. 

“Any other songs you’ve reworked like this?” Øystein asked. 

“Uh, yeah, we recently reworked the vocals for _Lamb to Slaughter _.”__

__“And it’s fuckin great!” Nels added. “Really showcases Eve’s voice.”_ _

__Eve had never been so angry with Nels as she shot him a look. These new vocals were meant to have fun at practice privately. She never hand intentions of playing these for anyone else and here Nels was practically selling her like a damn product he wanted to pawn off on some strangers they barely knew. The darkness bubbling up in her chest, Eve looked towards the floor trying to center herself._ _

__Again, Eve didn’t even have a say as Nels started in with Euronymous and the rest of the band. Pelle could see the frustration on her face and just like that night a week ago, he felt bad for her. It was obvious Nels and Øystein were pressuring her to perform._ _

__Her throat felt like fire each line she managed to choke out. This wasn’t something she did constantly. She always usually ended up paying the price for days after going so hard without preparation of some sort._ _

__Pelle kept his gaze towards the floor and listened intensely at the roar echoing through his ears as he tried to decipher what he was feeling. He’d never felt this way before, confused, excited, curious, but also slightly scared. Pelle wasn’t sure what he was afraid of, however. He didn’t even know this girl and it’s not as if she should matter…but in some way she just did._ _

__He had been thinking about Eve, dreaming about Eve, catching himself saying her name over and over as he wrote new lyrics up in his room. She seemed to serve as a strange inspiration for something new._ _

__“I’m going to go get some air.” Eve walked past the mic and grabbed her jackets from the couch beside Pelle, causing him to glace very briefly in her direction._ _

__“Need some company?” Øystein called out._ _

__“I’m fine, thank you though.” She didn’t even look back as she slid the layers of fabric over her arms before slipping out the door._ _

__A few moments later Jørn gave Pelle a look and slight nod towards the door as Øystein and Nels carried on a conversation unveiling more of what Eve had been up to with this new musical venture._ _

__Pelle didn’t even know what it meant, but with natural instinct, he quietly slipped out the door and ran upstairs to grab his shoes and leather jacket before making a quiet break for the kitchen to pour two cups of coffee. He was usually always secretly considerate of others, at least in his mind, but Pelle rarely showed such an outward sign of thoughtfulness, especially to a girl. Balancing the cups in his hand, Pelle pushed the screen door open to see Eve sitting quietly on the front steps, huddled under the leather of her jacket._ _

__“Coffee?” That sweet soft voice asked as he stood by her shoulder, his arm extended down._ _

__“Thank you.” She looked up in disbelief. “You could sit if you like.”_ _

__Pelle didn’t question her, even after she declined his friends offer to join her. However, it felt so awkward. He didn’t know what to say, he rarely ever did anymore. His mind ran so ramped with thoughts and ideas, his mouth could barely keep up to convey them before another filtered through. Sitting with Eve, however, things felt quite calm. He could hear the birds chirping and the woods cracking from the fresh snow they’d received days before._ _

__“Can I show you something?” Pelle finally looked over, the silence beginning to eat away at his mind._ _

__“Sure.” Eve sipped her coffee as he stood up._ _

__Pelle began walking across the snow covered yard, prompting Eve to rush to catch up with him. The snow crunched beneath them with each step towards this unknown destination._ _

__“Am I a lamb being led to slaughter?” Eve asked as they soon disappeared into the woods._ _

__“Would you like to be?” Pelle looked back, his tone almost seeming as serious as his expression._ _

__“Sometimes…I think it would be nice not knowing, you know?”_ _

__She felt the heat run over her neck, realizing just how morbid she probably sounded. With all the anger and defeat dwelling inside, it was hard not to go dark._ _

__“I’m sorry, that was really dark. I’m just a little upset.”_ _

__“Why?” Pelle continued his venture ahead stepping over snow covered limbs between sipping his increasingly cold coffee._ _

__“I didn’t expect this to be my morning, singing those songs with your band.” Eve started. “I’m private about things like that, and I never wanted anyone to hear my voice in that way. I don’t belong to your world, or Mayhem’s world. I’m just a girl, but I feel like a sort of prize on a pedestal because I am. I want my work to speak for itself, that is all.”_ _

__Pelle knew how she felt in a way. Øystein had been encouraging him to self-destruct even more after the first successful show. Rather than an expression of self, cutting on stage had created a notorious image for Pelle’s alter ego, Dead. It was fun at first, an emotional release of sorts. But soon it became a spectacle rather than making the statement he intended. And it hadn’t paid off yet, at least not financially. It had made him wonder time and time again if the public display of self-harm was nonexistent, would people even care about his words and performance? Would he even matter?_ _

__Feeling far enough from the house, Pelle stopped in his tracks and turned his face to the blinding white sky, taking in the scene of the wilted trees and occasional birds flying to and from an unknown place._ _

__As Eve stood beside him, Pelle took a heavy breath and let out the deepest growl, doubling over to prolong the sound as his lungs ached from the force. Eve clutched her chest in surprise and her eyes widened at this magnificent noise expelling from this beautiful man._ _

__“Your turn.” Pelle’s chest heaved as he stay bend at the hips looking at the snow._ _

__“I don’t think I can.” Eve shivered._ _

__“I will do it with you.”_ _

__Pelle rose up again, his eyes now on her face, their gaze yet again connected in intensity. Eve slowly nodded and they both took the deepest breaths their bodies allowed with their chests puffed and expanded so deeply it hurt. Pelle gave one soft nodded and they both screamed their lungs out with such a force any passerby would think someone was being hacked to death. However intense this moment seemed, they never broke the stare even as they heaved and coughed from the cold._ _

__“Again.” Pelle tossed his cup to the ground, the rest of the liquid seeping to the icy snow, prompting Eve to do the same._ _

__Just like before, two deep breaths in, gaze connected, Pelle and Eve screamed and growled until they were a mess._ _

__Øystein eventually caught wind of this dreadful scream as he peaked outside to see neither Pelle or Eve sitting there as expected._ _

__“Oh fuck!” He yelled and grabbed the shotgun from behind the door before starting, out the door not giving it a second thought._ _

__“Where are you going, man?” Jørn called out as the screaming started again. His eyes grew wide with worry as he took off behind his friend, afraid of what could be lurking within the woods._ _

__Had Jørn aided in some sick idea of Pelle? Had his friend finally lost it completely? As much as he didn’t want to know, he felt responsible to find out…_ _


End file.
